


Elessarno - The Lay of the Elf Stone

by Arcus_Calion



Series: Quentalirilla [6]
Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works & Related Fandoms, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Elessar - Freeform, Epic Poem, Gen, Lay - Freeform, Lays of Beleriand, Rings of Power, Silmarils, poem
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-08
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-08-20 18:21:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16560902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arcus_Calion/pseuds/Arcus_Calion
Summary: Of the tales and figures come down to us from the Elder Days, few have matched the deeds and works of Celebrimbor, the Heir of Fëanor and the Ringmaker. Of his works the Elves hold most in reverence the Elessar, the Elf Stone, which brought forth life and growth amid the tales of ruin and decay. Of its history was made the Lay of the Elessar, which is remembered still by the wandering companies of the Eldar.





	1. Canto I - Of the Lineage of Celebrimbor

**Author's Note:**

> This is a long Lay in the style of the Lay of Leithian, in octo-syllabic rhyming couplets. I envision it being 15 Cantos of varying length and subject matter tracing the story of the Elessar from its creation in the First Age by Celebrimbor (which is the canon I subscribe to. More on that in the notes on the relevant canto) through its ownership by Idril in Gondolin, and its fate in the hands of Elwing and eventually Eärendil in the Heavens. Then it will follow Celebrimbor and Galadriel and the founding of Eregion and the Rings of Power, and the creation of the second Elessar, as well as the alternate tale of the return of the first, and from there it will follow Galadriel through the Third Age and finally end with the prophecy of Aragorn and his story and its final resting place in Minas Tirith.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The lineage of Celebrimbor is recounted, as well as the deeds in brief of the Elvish history up until the Siege of Angband, in which were made the greatest works of the Eldar.

Ere Men held sway across the earth

And Fading Days had spent their worth

There stood an ancient Elven land

The fair and green Beleriand

Beyond the singing mountains blue                                        5

With shining streams and gleaming dew

It lay beneath the starry sky.

Its beauty could the minstrels try

To capture, and would miss the mark,

Its loveliness and beauty stark.                                               10

 

But while its northern marches stretched

Along green rolling grasslands sketched

Like portraits in a royal hall

Bedecked in verdant beauty all,

Their faces gazed towards the North                                      15

To mountains from whose tops poured forth

A reek of dreadful fume and smoke:

Thangorodrim, where anguish woke

For thralls and servants of the Foe

Of Elves and Men, who knew him so:                                    20

The Enemy of life itself,

Morgoth the bane of Man and Elf.

From here he sent his hatred out

And hoped to put to shame and rout

The valor of the elven league                                                 25

Which kept him locked in dark fatigue

Of Angband, Iron Hell of dread,

But ever had his servants fled

From wrath of Elves and later Men

Who kept the watch on Morgoth’s den.                                 30

This leaguer reigning in the Foe

Allowed great life and love to grow

Untroubled in Beleriand

While elvish armies fenced the land.

 

These swords were held by Noldor lords                               35

The elves whose minds had turned towards

The wide and wild of Wilderland

The world beyond the Western strand

Of Valinor the Blessed Realm

Whose bounds began to overwhelm                                       40

And press upon their venturous minds,

As bar or lock or cage reminds

A beast that they have left their home

And never freely more will roam

Across the lands where once they walked                              45

And chased their dreams and wonder stalked

Through starlit Endor, Middle-earth

Where had the Elder Kin their birth.

Cuiviénen’s water near

Awoke they by the darkling mere                                           50

And gazed in wonder at the stars,

Those silver shining astral bars.

Their pathway thence was long and hard

Though they’d not fear for want of guard

To guide them on the weary road,                                          55

For Oromë the way had showed

To them to reach the Western Sea

And past to reach the blessed lea

Of Valinor the Golden Land

Where came they on the final strand                                      60

Where ends the world in music long

And lifted up their hearts in song.

Three kindreds were they on the march

From starlit mere to marble arch

Of cities built in Valinor;                                                        65

They dwelt together on the shore

Of Belegaer’s foaming sea.

The kindred third, the Teleri,

Bethought them most of music sweet

Which wove they into patterns meet                                      70

Entranced with oceanic song

Their love of wind and wave was strong.

The second were the Noldor wise

The lords of wisdom in whose eyes

Was ever wonder at the world,                                               75

Whose gleaming banners were unfurled

Upon the rising of the Moon.

The first, the Vanyar, came too soon

To leave the Noldor where they dwelt

In friendship seldom after felt,                                               80

To live among the Holy Ones

As their own happy golden sons.

 

The Noldor had as has been told

Begun to feel unrest take hold

And one among them felt most keen                                      85

The wish for lands till then unseen

To rule and order as he would,

His name was Fëanor, who stood

As firstborn to the Noldor king,

Finwë wise from whom would spring                                    90

The heroes of the Elder Days,

He was bereft in many ways.

For when he was but newly come

Into his manhood, did succumb

His mother to her weariness                                                   95

And to the halls of dreariness

Where dwell the shades of elven dead

Departed she in sadness fled

From love and lives of son and spouse.

Her spirit left her fleshy house                                               100

The first of Elves to take this path

Through grief to die and cease to laugh

Alive on earth. Bereft were then

Her spouse and son, it passed their ken

To know the fitting thing to do,                                             105

And so they more together grew

And love between them fiercely flamed.

A part of joy they then reclaimed

And never greater has there been

Of love from elves for their own kin                                      110

Than grew between, familial,

Ancient king and son most skillful.

For Fëanor was skilled in art

Of craft and any piece or part

Of Arda might he shape and change                                       115

Into whatever form. And strange

Fantastic thoughts took hold of him

Until he thought upon a whim

To make the greatest work of all

Than which no greater can befall:                                          120

The Silmarils of Holy Light

The last remaining vessels bright

Preserving still the dew distilled

Of Light that once had dripped and spilled

From both the Trees of Valinor                                              125

That grew in ancient days of yore.

 

The Trees of Light were made by she

Whose thought begat the leaf and tree,

Yavanna fair the Mother Earth

Who sat and sang and caused to birth                                    130

From fertile soil two young shoots

From silver and from golden roots

That grew up into wondrous Trees

Before whose light all darkness flees:

Telperion and Laurelin                                                            135

The fate of Arda locked therein.

From these two trees of holy light

Fëanor then thought he might

Take some portion of their sap

Of mingling light and blended trap                                        140

This mixture in some substance clear

That he devised. To diamond near

Was it in hardness, yet far more

And clearer still and in the lore

Of Elves and Men and Dwarven folk                                     145

There is no greater work bespoke.

The Silmarils he made indeed

And all who saw them paid them heed.

 

In Tirion the city fair

Of Noldor, where the windy air                                              150

Blew clear from off the starlit sea

Walked one who did not seem to be

A threat to happiness or bliss

And yet there is no truth than this:

The foe of Elves and Men was he                                          155

Morgoth vile, who chained would be

In Mandos dark but for the grace

Of Manwë mild, within whose face

Shines forth the light of Truth, and who

Had freed his brother from his view                                       160

Of darkened halls and chainéd wrist,

Yet maybe it is true that this

Was folly in the mask of grace,

And Manwë erred to let the face

Of Morgoth walk the land of Bliss.                                        165

Certain true howe’er is this:

That Morgoth set within the heart

Of Fëanor an evil dart

Of fear that he would lose respect

Of father and his kin defect                                                    170

In service from his rightful rule,

Then did he bethink a tool

That could enforce his lawful right

To kingship and respect of might,

And therefore did he forge bright swords                              175

To only use in case some wards

Were needed ‘gainst the schemes of kin

Who sought his crown and throne to win.

But to his brother’s breast he thrust

The point of his own sword unjust                                         180

To threaten and belittle him

Who only bore him love, and grim

These tidings were and dark

The things that came of that fell spark.

 

Now Fëanor had seven sons,                                                  185

To him these were the only ones

Worthy of his trust and life,

Except his father and his wife:

Curufin, Celegorm the fair,

Amarthan and Amros were there,                                           190

Caranthir dark, and Maedros tall

(whom after torment should befall),

And Maglor mighty singer free,

Who with deep voice sang mournfully.

These seven served him to the last                                         200

And when his evil deed had passed,

With sword had threatened brother wise,

Was doom delivered from the skies

Of Ilmarin, where Elder King

Held court on highest marble ring                                          205

Of thrones wherein the Powers sate

And dealt with laws and dooms of fate:

No more would skillful Fëanor

Upon the terraced hill of Côr

Dwell as king of Noldor elves,                                               210

But in the north he exiled delves

A dwelling in the northern plain

Formenos, home of pride and pain

For Fëanor the exiled lord

Of Tirion, where he abhorred                                                 215

By all his people was then held

Save those whose loyalty had swelled

By reason of the treatment dark

Of their own lord, whose fate was stark

In contrast to the fate of he                                                     220

Whose deeds were worse with surety

Than Fëanor the prideful elf,

For was not Morgoth yet himself

A dreadful lord of darkness grim

Who ruled with fear? Was he not him                                    225

Who captured elven kin of old?

Yet now in freedom fair he strolled

Through frith and field of Valinor

And was not held by darkling door.

 

The seven sons in exile went,                                                 230

And to them people seldom sent

Their love or mercy, save a few

Who held in pity and still knew

Them all to be but loyal sons

And still would visit; most the ones                                       235

Who were of old their friends and more.

One of these was she who bore

The elf whose fate would shape the world

Whose works would cause to be unfurled

The banners of the Age of Men,                                             240

In hope beyond immortal ken

When Aragorn the proud and free

Was king of Mountains and the sea.

This babe the child of Curufin,

And marked with his grandfather’s sin                                   245

Was born into the exiled house

Of Fëanor. His mother’s spouse

Went with him north to Formenos

To dwell therein and to repose

Remaining still in Holy bliss                                                  250

Of Aman fair. The Silver Fist,

Celebrimbor was he named then,

The scion of the exiles when

In ancient days they dwelt yet still

In Valinor, while dew did spill                                               255

And run forth from the shining trees,

When noontide lay upon the knees

Of Aman, Blessed golden land,

Before the touch of Morgoth’s hand

Destroyed the peace of gardens bright,                                  260

And brought to naught the holy light.

 

When Morgoth as is elsewhere told

Laid low the joy and bliss of old

And slew the Trees and Finwë wise,

The first of Elves to find demise                                            265

By hand of foe in Valinor;

When Morgoth fled that darkened shore,

With Silmarils, the jewels bright,

Whose power and whose ancient might

Were lost then from the elven hands                                      270

Of him who made them, burning brands

Were brandished in the darkling gloom

Their scarlet light announcing doom,

And Fëanor to Tirion

The city with his sons was come                                            275

And Celebrimbor went with them

Now full-grown. There for love of gem

And blood-price owed to Fëanor

His seven sons an oath there swore

Along with him who was bereft                                             280

Of father and by evil theft

Of Silmarils and works of hand,

Now stolen from the Blessed land.

‘Be he friend or foe, or seed defiled

of Morgoth Baugron, or mortal child                                     285

that in after days on earth shall dwell,

no law, nor love, nor league of hell,

not Valar’s might, not moveless fate

shall him defend from wrath and hate

of Fëanor's sons, who takes or steals                                      290

or finding keeps the Silmarils,

the thrice-enchanted globes of light

that shine until the final night.’

 

Forthwith arose then all the host

Of Noldor and along the coast                                                295

They fled from Valinor the fair

Now darkened and with black despair

From every quarter now beset.

They came into the North with threat

‘Gainst Morgoth Baugron, Dark Lord vile                             300

Whose servants all of flame and bile

Were lately known to roam the world

And dark the mists of night still swirled

Among the woods and on the land

In dark and fair Beleriand.                                                      305

The evil and the murder wrought

Along the road thence shall here naught

Be said, for too much grief and woe

Is that dark tale to tell. And so

We come to fair Beleriand,                                                     310

The old and starlit elven land,

Then ruled by Thingol elven king

Of whom the harpers sadly sing,

Whose rod was over tree and glen.

But dire his situation when                                                     315

From Valinor the Noldor came

And unto Morgoth’s door with flame

Or wrath and swords of glorious war

They brought their legions with a roar

Of vengeance and of triumph earned                                     320

By deeds above which Anar burned

New raised up into azure skies.

The Moon and Sun with shining eyes

Beheld the Siege of Angband laid

By Noldor with the grudging aid                                            325

Of Thingol king of elven land,

The wide and wild Beleriand.

 

Now took the Noldor realms to rule

Along the Northward marches cool

Arrayed then as a wall of steel                                                330

That kept the Enemy at heel.

Fëanor’s sons held fast the East,

And Amros hunted bird and beast

In Estolad the wild and wide,

Bereft of brother who had died                                              335

In fiery burning of the ships

That darkness in the North eclipsed

At Fëanor’s coming to the East.

Where Estolad’s end northward ceased

There dwelt the older brothers fair                                         340

Celegorm and Curufin there

In Himlad’s plain. The narrow strait

Of Aglon’s pass to guard and wait

For dreadful day of battle vile

To halt the Orcs of evil guile.                                                 345

On Himring’s height where Maedros dwelt

And guarded there the March and veldt

Ard-galen’s grassy expanse wide,

He often with the Orc-hordes vied

And kept them from Beleriand:                                              350

Secured the borders of the land.

To further east along the Gap

Between the March and whitened cap

Of Rerir’s lofty snow-clad height,

Was Maglor’s haunt and there would fight                            355

He often with the servants dark

Of Morgoth, from whose dungeons stark

They’d seek to pierce the wall of sword

The Noldor used to fence and ward

From harm the peaceful elven land,                                       360

The fair and green Beleriand.

Below the heights of Rerir’s horn

Caranthir dwelt by Helevorn

And guarded Dor Caranthir wide

‘Twixt Duin Daer and the side                                               365

Of Ered Luin’s southward spine.

Celebrimbor of the line

Of Curufin dwelt then with him

Who watched the pass of Aglon grim,

On Himlad’s plain and Himring’s hill                                    370

And kept his faith and held then still

To Fëanor’s house the dispossessed.

 

Thus was the time and age most blessed

The peaceful Siege of Angband held

By Noldor swords. To Morgoth spelled                                 375

These valiant elves his dying doom

And cleansed the land beneath the Moon.


	2. Of Idril Celebrindal and the Elessar

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrimbor and the sons of Fëanor journey to Vinyamar, where he meets Idril, and sees in her a kindred spirit. He resolves to make for her the Elessar, and hopes to heal her sorrow.

While Fëanor’s sons the Eastern front

Kept safe and bore the greatest brunt

Of Morgoth’s force of arms and hate,                                    380

The Western lands was it the fate

Of Fingolfin’s own doughty heirs

To guard and keep, and was it theirs

To watch the pass of Sirion

The river wide, white towers on                                             385

Whose islands watched that narrow way,

And others kept the mountains grey.

Fingolfin held the Well-spring tow’r,

Barad Eithel, whose eyes would scour

The verdant plains of Ard-galen,                                            390

Whose beauty would uplift all men

And from whose sources Sirion sprang

In rocky falls and trumpets rang

About its gates. Behind the chills

Of Ered Wethrin’s dusty hills                                                 395

The land of Hithlum vast and cold

Spread out between the mountains old

Of Wethrin and of Mithrim there

Where bells and hithlain filled the air

With peals of joy and flowers blue.                                        400

 

Beside the Lake of dusky hue

Was Fingon’s and Fingolfin’s seat

And city old where first did meet

The sundered hosts of Noldor grim

United then at odds with him                                                  405

Who led them into darkest woe

And died in battle with the Foe:

Fëanor the fell and fey

Whose treachery in Northlands grey

And stranding of Fingolfin’s folk                                           410

In Araman had served to stoke

The fire of vengeance in their hearts,

And so they’d journeyed on through parts

Where solid ground gave way to ice

And shifting crannies made a vice                                          415

To trap the wand’ring foot ill-placed

Until they came at last to face

With Fëanor’s own sons alive

Whom to a man when they arrived

Moved on to keep the further shore:                                       420

These camps in twain became the spore

For the city of Elves which now grew tall

And proud in beauty ‘mid the call

Of sheep and shepherd on the shores

Of Mithrim’s windy northern moors.                                     425

 

Dor-lómin also claimed the heir

Of Fingolfin and builded there

A dwelling fit for king to rule:

Lord Fingon’s Palace by a pool

Of water crystal clear at night                                                430

Reflecting stars and heaven’s light.

West of Hithlum was the land

Of Nevrast, and the western sand

Of Belegaer’s roaring sea

Lay foaming on the windy lea                                                435

Of Taras, mountain at the end

Of Wethrin’s range, with twist and bend

Thrust out his feet into the sea,

Here Turgon for a time would be.

He built the halls of Vinyamar                                                440

That palace fair beside the bar

Of ships from southern elven ports

That Círdan ruled. And in those courts

Dwelt Turgon’s daughter, Idril fair

Who barefoot went, and in whose hair                                   445

Was tangled golden sunlight mild;

In high esteem he held his child.

 

Once on a day of summer spent

In pace about the lands there went

A party gay of elven lords                                                      460

Who rode across the streams and fords

Of seven rivers winding fair:

Aros and Esgalduin where

The Iant Iaur spanned the flood,

Then on o’er Mindeb thick with mud,                                    465

O’er Sirion the wide and wild,

The Vala Ulmo’s blessed child,

And onto Teiglin’s stony leap,

And Narog’s torrent from the steep

And rocky hills at Wethrin’s feet,                                          470

And last o’er Ginglith ‘till they meet

The sight of Taras rising fair

His peak all shining in the air

Which blew in crisp from off the sea,

To West Beleriand the free.                                                    475

 

The seven heirs of Fëanor

Had come to tarry by the shore

Of Nevrast and to greet with smiles

Their cousin and his court, whose aisles

Were full of friends from Valinor,                                          480

There Celebrimbor found in store

Great beauty made in works of hand,

And wrought on walls, on stone, in sand,

But fairer than all these adornings

Found he Idril in those mornings                                            485

When the Sun rose o’er the peak

Of Taras rising tall whose cheek

Was kissed with rosy dawning light,

There Idril stood on ramparts bright

And watched the sunlight warm the sea,                                490

And Celebrimbor: marveled he

At sight of elven beauty still

Undimmed by sorrow that might fill

The hearts of lesser folk and break

Their spirits wrought of lesser make,                                     495

For Idril was no fragile child

Born to dwell in summer mild,

For she had crossed the Grinding Ice

And lost her mother, than whom twice

The gold in Valinor meant naught,                                         500

And nevermore could back be brought

The joy of her own presence bright

Into fair Idril’s life. No light

Could pierce the darkness following

Elenwë’s absence harrowing;                                                 505

No touch maternal could return

To comfort Idril, so she stern

Held up her posture to the world.

But every dawn when flags unfurled

And trumpets rang the morning in,                                         510

She’d gaze out west and hope to win

Some glimpse of Valinor afar

For there her mother as a star

Was waiting constant, so she hoped

And clung to this, that she might cope                                   515

With sorrow and the loneliness,

That heartbreak bred from weariness.

But still her beauty blazed forth fair

And lit the early morning air.

 

And Celebrimbor swore it then                                              520

That he upon his return when

He came to Vinyamar once more

Would there restore her joy and pour

The wonder of the waking world

Into her heart where sorrow swirled,                                      525

And break her out of sadness grim,

Into the light from darkness dim

That pressed upon her labored mind.

For still he loathed to see this kind

Of sorrow fester in the heart                                                   530

Of elven exiles as a dart

Intent to wound and lay low them

That should have gladness, not condemn

Their joy as something ill-advised

Because of others’ sad demise.                                               535

For he himself had lost a sire,

His father’s father: as a fire

His soul had seared his body where

He lay on Wethrin’s passes there,

And held his sons to their fell oath                                         540

In sight of Morgoth, though they loath

To keep their weary word already

They had sworn with conscience steady,

Now it faltered in the darkness

Under Morgoth’s web of starless                                            545

Clouds that pressed upon their souls.

He with his dying breath the coals

Of their own fiery spirits stoked

While he with dreadful dying smoked

And Celebrimbor was bereft                                                  550

Of his grandsire. This awful theft

Of joy and family was hard

For him to bear, and still the charred

And smoking hillside was forever

Burned within his heart and never                                          555

Could he block it from his mind.

Thus Idril’s pain he knew in kind.

 

Then took he all his subtle arts

And all his counsel, and the parts

Of soul and spirit whence are come                                        560

The promptings that the heartstrings strum

Arising from the Heart of hearts

The muse of all immortal arts.

He thought of Fëanor the skilled

Whose Silmarils were light distilled                                      565

In shape and body crystalline,

Yet did their spirits brightly shine

Of inner fire and soul of light

Whose essence held the healing might

Of Valinor and Eldamar                                                         570

Beyond the world removed afar.

Then thought he of a work alike

Which might with healing power strike

The world about it, and the eye

That lookéd through it could descry                                       575

Reversal of all loss and pain

To make the young world fair again

And these bright visions would that thing

Unto fruition even bring

By pow’r of Sun and stars and Moon                                     580

Locked fast within a crystal hewn

From some fair mixture made with toil

Far down beneath the iron soil

Of Himring’s height where long and hard

Toiled Celebrimbor behind barred                                         585

And sealed doors of stone well-made.

Then on his mighty forge he laid

The instruments of his design

That by their mixing he might twine

A crystal’s fair habiliment.                                                     590

Upon his forge a filament

He made of glass and elven light

Entwined in tresses fair and bright

And spun in thread like spider’s web

As lay in dark Nan Dungortheb                                              595

But shining as if purified

With Holy Air of Ilmen tried.

 

When spun was thread of crystal fair

And tried with Ilmen’s holy air

He imbued it with strength of trees                                        600

Whose branches whispered in the breeze

In Nan Elmoth’s old sacred grove

Where once enchantment quiet wove

Fair Melian the Maia wise,

With light of Aman in her eyes                                              605

Whose beauty captured Thingol when

He wandered past immortal ken

While straying homeward through the wood.

Now virtue of those old trees would

Imbue with holy verdant light                                                610

That crystal form. No stain or blight

Could thrive beneath the searing face

Of Celebrimbor’s verdant case

Containing light of Sun and Moon;

All death would halt, all dark would swoon                           615

When forth he brought the Elessar

The Elfstone green which like a star

That fell to earth did blaze and burn

With verdant light, and all would turn

To gladness in that holy light                                                 620

Brought forth by him whose skill and might

In craft of jewel-making deft

Could none surpass, save him who left

The shores and lands of Valinor,

The wild and reckless Fëanor.                                                625

 

Now Celebrimbor took that gem

And set it fast within a stem

Of silver, and encased it bright

In silver housing, resting light

About that gem in Eagle’s shape                                            630

With wings outspread and beak agape

In mighty call of bold defiance

To Morgoth’s treachery and science

Of pain and violence unfair.

He as a brooch to take and wear                                             635

The Elessar created bright

And bore its shining verdant light

Upon his breast, and while this was,

He found it was the root and cause

Of better fortune and of bliss                                                  640

Which reigned in Himring. Naught amiss

Could then be found, for by the might

Of that great brooch of verdant light

Were things renewed and growth was stirred

And far and wide all heard the word:                                     645

The Marring of the Marrer fell

Who lurked within the Iron Hell

Of Angband grim had been undone

And freedom from decay was won

By Celebrimbor skillful child                                                 650

Of Curufin of the exiled

And hope ran through the elven land

The wide and fair Beleriand

That Morgoth Baugron never could

Destroy the world, and never would                                      655

He win against the Holy Ones

Ilúvatar’s immortal sons

And daughters mighty in the West,

Nor could he hope to break and best

The leaguer of the Noldor swords                                          660

That still about the Dark Lord wards

The elven lands from dark attack

Of Orc or troll or lightless wrack

Of clouds of war which ever boiled

Above the hills where Orc hordes toiled.                               665

 

Now high in hope and flush with praise

Celebrimbor rode the ways

Which led to Nevrast and to her

Whose pain he’d made the stone to cure.

He came to halls of Vinyamar                                                670

Where Taras stood, from which afar

Could dimly cross the sea be seen

The glimmer of a fading sheen

Of Valinor upon the waves

Which rolled above the deep dark graves                               675

Of sailors drowned adrift at sea.

He came unto that seaward lea

And rode unto King Turgon’s hall

That king whose stature was more tall

Than all the Elves of Noldor race                                           680

That dwelt alive upon the face

Of Middle-earth the young and wild.

There Celebrimbor saw the mild

And wistful face of Idril pale

Where she kept silence, but not frail                                      685

Did she seem then, as if of steel

By elf-wrights wrought who full of zeal

Had made in metal shining bright

The image of a flower white

Whose every curve and every line                                          690

Were delicate and seemed to shine

With dewy beauty, but whose shape

Was hard as knives and should one scrape

Their hands across the dewy thorns

They’d soon discover that the horns                                       695

Of kine were not sharp as her

In wits or wisdom, nor did stir

Her heart within her at the sight

Of traveler and skilled jewel-wright

Who stood before her father there                                          700

With salt of sea within his hair.

 

King Turgon hailed him as a friend

Whom fortune fair had deigned to send.

‘Well met fair traveler,’ he said

‘We welcome you. Prepared a bed                                         705

Lies in the palace for your kin

That sometimes o’er the country win

And stay awhile beside the sea.

But wherefore have you come to be

So far from hall on northern hill,                                            710

Where keeps the watch your father still?

And wherefore have you come to seek

An audience with me? To speak

I urge you as a friend who cares

That you should rest amid the airs                                          715

Of salt and sea and mountain lea,

But first I urge you: tell to me

The reason for your visit here.

I did not think you would appear

In Vinyamar so soon since we                                                720

Had seen you when you came to see

Thine friends from Valinor of old.

Now let thy purpose here be told.’

 

Then Celebrimbor said to him

‘My Lord, my heart was to the brim                                       725

Filled up with sorrow when I saw

Your daughter’s torment which will gnaw

Upon the quiet of her mind,

For I have suffered long in kind

The loss of one whom to me dear                                           730

Was held accounted. Never near

His presence to me now will be,

For he is gone beyond the sea

To halls of waiting, forth from whence

He shall not come till ages hence.                                          735

For thine own queen dwells not with thee:

Her spirit lies across the sea

In Valinor the Blessed Land

Where dwells she merry by the strand

Where ends the world in music long                                      740

And all the air is thick with song

Of Elves and birds and beasts and more

All singing on the further shore.

But still her loss is to be felt

By those who dwell across the belt                                        745

Of Belegaer’s foaming water:

Especially by thine own daughter

Whose love for her lost mother dear

Has caused her life to lack all cheer

And only death and sorrow see,                                              750

And what one sees will come to be;

If left unchecked the mind alone

Will bring to being what is known

And held by it to be the truth.

But if by my own hand, forsooth!                                          755

Might Idril’s pain be lessened then

I offer up this gift, and when

Thou seest what I bring to thee

Perhaps with wisdom you will see

The beauty and the loveliness,                                                760

But even more than all of this

I hope my work can be to thee

A boon and to your sorrow be

A cause for ending and reprieve

From sorrow. Now you grieve                                                765

And wander lost in darkness cold

But through this work that I here hold

I hope that can come to see:

Your pain need not eternal be.’

 

When finished he his words he took                                      770

Forth from a fold and hidden nook

Of his red cloak the Elessar

More fair than light of Sun or Star

And greener than the green of Spring

When bud the leaves and birds all sing.                                 775

Then all of Turgon’s court amazed

Gazed upon the stone he raised

Aloft so that it caught the light

Of setting Sun which westward bright

Shone redly into Turgon’s hall,                                              780

That verdant glow removed the pall

Of doubt or sorrow that were felt

By all who in Vinyamar dwelt

And even Idril looked in awe

Upon this work of skill and saw                                             785

At once as if in flash of light

A vision of the darkest night

Illumined by the light of life

Which came as if to end the strife

That wounded like some evil darts                                         790

Of torment in her Heart of hearts.

She saw then clear within the stone

The sight of one who walked alone

In joy and peace beside the sea,

And knew her mother it to be.                                                795

Then was her heart to gladness moved

And Celebrimbor’s words were proved

And Idril smiled brightly then

And all there wondered, it had been

Too long since they had seen that sight                                  800

For Idril had in darkest night

Of harrowed soul long wandered lost

And these long years of sorrow cost

Her father many worried days

But now he saw within her gaze                                             805

A life and light and tenderness

That once of old in Elvenesse

She had showed forth in Valinor.

Then stepped she forward to the floor

Where Celebrimbor held aloft                                                810

That gem of verdant power soft

And took she there his proffered gift

And up above her head did lift

That gem of light and loveliness

And pinned it there upon her breast.                                      815

 

For many decades Idril wore

That stone in peace and times of war

And ever after did it bring

A gift of peace and prospering

To all the places where she dwelt;                                         820

And all who lived there also felt

The power of that holy jewel

Which shone with light of leaves and cool

Crystalline waters under stars

That shine in Menel’s lofty bars.                                            825

But back to Himring rode then hence

Celebrimbor, to whom immense

And wondrous gifts were then conferred

And promises of love were earned

‘Tween Turgon’s realm and Curufin                                      830

Though still in doubt he held his kin,

Which afterwards proved justified

As shall be seen: this friendship died.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The story of the Elessar is laid out only in brief snippets in the Unfinished Tales in the very confusing section: Concerning Galadriel and Celeborn. Here the story of the Elessar is laid out as being originally made by Enerdhil, a jewel smith in Gondolin. However, Tolkien quickly changed it to Celebrimbor in his draft. In all later versions of the story, the maker was still Celebrimbor, but the location and timing of the making of the stone vary. In order to reconcile these drafts, I followed the simple rule: If Tolkien changed one thing, then we must accept that change. Therefore, since Celebrimbor could never have come to Gondolin, he must have made the Elessar for Idril before that city was made. hence, this scenario which I have created. I am almost certainly unique in holding this particular view of canon, but I do think it fits best with Tolkien's intentions.


	3. Canto III - Of the Hidden Realms and the Ruin of Beleriand

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The founding of Nargothrond and Gondolin is recounted, and Celebrimbor falls in love with Galadriel in Nargothrond. The world of the Eldar comes to ruin with the Dagor Bragollach, and Celebrimbor takes refuge in Nargothrond.

Now on a time it came to pass

Before the making of that glass                                              835

The Elessar of verdant light,

The King of Nevrast thought he might

A journey take with favored kin,

King Finrod fair who long had been

Ensconced in fair Tol Sirion                                                   840

And built a fortress white upon

The stony island’s climbing shore

Minas Tirith, white tower of war.

So Turgon left fair Vinyamar

And journeyed cross the rivers far                                         845

To meet his cousin Finrod where

The river’s arms were tangled fair

In Meres of Twilight, limpid pools

Of Aelin-Uial. Like jewels

The dew of dawn bedecked the grass                                     850

And clouds saw their reflections pass

Unruffled in the water’s face.

Together tarried in that place

Those cousins fair, and lay they down

Upon the banks and as a crown                                              855

The summer flowers in their hair

Were tangled white and golden fair.

 

They felt the pull of peaceful sleep

Descend upon them. Into deep

And dreadful dreams did they depart                                     860

And deep within each blessed heart

They heard the words of Ulmo wise

Who spoke of Elvendom’s demise

And caution whispered in their ears,

But calming then their sleeping fears                                     865

He spoke of strength and making fast

A secret place which falling last

Might foster hope for Elven land

Which scorched beneath the burning brand

Of Morgoth’s fist would surely be                                         870

With ashen clouds and fiery

Red rivers running full of blood.

Thus Ulmo counseled that they should

Each take upon themselves the task

Of finding some far place to mask                                          875

Themselves from probing eyes and foes

Therein to keep themselves from woes

And foster hope and strength of will.

Awaking each beside the rill

Of cool clear water next to which                                           880

They’d slept and felt their souls enrich

From visions clear of dark import

Which had to each, the same purport

Been given there, but they thought each

To them alone did Ulmo preach                                             885

And to themselves these visions kept.

They left the place where they had slept

And both returned unto their homes

With visions and with plans of domes

And towers reaching up on high,                                            890

Or caverns neath the earth from eye

Of Morgoth hidden. Both took leave

With higher hearts and plans to weave.

 

Now on a time it came to pass

That Finrod shared a great repast                                           895

When sojourned he in Doriath

The realm to which there was no path

Which was not lost within a haze

Of doubt and fear. Melian’s maze;

Girdle strong of her enchanting                                              900

Lying round the land and granting

Conduction only to the few

Whom she herself with sureness knew

Had won the favor of her lord

King Thingol, who of grassy sward                                       905

And hidden beech and stately elm

Was lord and master, and whose realm

Was over tree and leaf and stem.

He granted passage through to them

Who were his kin by bonds of blood                                      910

For his own brother had the flood

Of Belegaer’s foaming sea

Left far behind him, for when he

Had reached its shores he pressed still on

To Valinor and thence was drawn                                          915

And built his home, a wondrous sight:

Great Alqualondë’s haven bright.

And there his daughter Eärwen

Had her to husband Finarfin

The brother wise of Fëanor                                                     920

Who dwells yet still in Valinor.

From him were come Galadriel,

And Finrod, and Aegnor the fell,

And Angrod who begat an heir

Orodreth of the mountain air                                                  925

A steadfast lover. And with skill

They warded all that northern hill

Dorthonion the wide and wild.

 

Thus Finrod counted as a child

By Thingol, though removed by time                         930

And culture and a land divine,

He held him fondly in his heart,

And so came Finrod to depart

His island home and journey south

To Doriath, and to the mouth                                                 935

Of Menegroth the Thousand Caves

Where Thingol dwelt, and where the waves

Where furthest from the mind and heart,

For so much beauty and such art

Bedecked those halls from rock walls hewn.                         940

When Finrod saw, he asked a boon

Of Thingol, and laid bare his heart

That Ulmo did to him impart

A need of secrecy and strength

Which might defend and last the length                                 945

Of Morgoth’s tenure on his throne

In Angband vile; till the moan

Of servants sad would cease to rise

From out of caverns to the skies.

Then Finrod said that fain would he                                       950

Create a dwelling that would be

Like unto Menegroth fair,

Far underground and from the air

Of heaven hidden. Thingol thought

Within his heart, and to him taught                                        955

Of Narog’s caves all that he knew

And gave him guides, who led him true

To carven portals gaping wide

Above the river’s stony side.

 

And there he found great work begun                                                960

By Dwarves before the days of Sun

And with the aid of Dwarven folk

He built the hall of which he spoke

To Thingol, and a wondrous place

Was it when finished by that race                                           965

Of thrawn and skillful delvers grim

Who far beyond the dreams of him

Who ruled that place could hope to dare

Had fashioned him a wondrous lair.

And Nargothrond he named it then,                                       970

A shining hall, no measly den

Of rude and uncouth people wild

Was Finrod’s hall, and like a child

Did he treat it, and there he carved

In stone great scenes of elves all starved:                               975

The Noldor hosts who from the north

Came marching, and who had come forth

From Valinor. And that land too

He carved in stone, and brilliant hue

Of crystals shining wrought he then                                       980

Fair carvings of immortal ken

Of Valinor the blessed land,

Which far from green Beleriand

Sundered and was lost forever

Nor could Finrod return ever.                                                 985

All these and more he carved in stone

And there amid them was his throne.

All this was done beneath the earth,

And none who dwelt there felt a dearth

Of sunlight or of happiness                                                     990

Where Finrod dwelt in blissfulness.

 

Meanwhile beneath Mount Taras’ feet

Where Vinyamar the eye would greet

Of any traveler passing there,

King Turgon sate upon his chair                                             995

Of stone within his lofty hall.

His thoughts went back before the pall

Of exile fell on Noldor hosts,

When still he dwelt upon the coasts

Of Valinor in Eldamar                                                            1000

That shining blissful harbor far

Beyond all mortal reach and ken.

His memory alighted then

On Tirion the white and fair

Whose towers pricked the shining air                                     1005

Which through the Calacirya went

And through its streets it curved and bent;

Where in the shining kingly courts

There grew a silver shoot of sorts

Which planted by Yavanna there                                           1010

Grew tall and slender-white and fair:

A scion of the eldest tree

Telperion, which argently

Did light the land of Aman mild,

His sapling grew there white and wild:                                  1015

Galathilion the white tree

Of Tirion which pleasantly

Grew in the court of Noldor kings.

Then Turgon thought of all these things

How fair they were and to him dear                                       1020

And thought to find someplace hid near

Where he could build his memory

Anew in walls of ivory

And marble white. And so he still

looked round to find like Túna’s hill                                      1025

A height in some secluded place

On which to build his hidden space

Of safety. But to no avail

Were all his searches, and did fail

His servants who all searched the land                                   1030

The wide and wild Beleriand

Until one evening Ulmo came

And showed to him his true-heart’s aim.

 

He took him out into the wild

Alone he wandered by the mild                                              1035

And waters wide of Sirion

Which Ulmo’s power was thick upon,

And crossed he over to the land

Of Dimbar where the guiding hand

Of Ulmo led him through the hills                                          1040

To a hidden vale where sweetly rills

Of water fells from lofty heights

And there amid these vast delights

Was such a hill as Turgon sought

And then in haste he thither brought                                      1045

Great craftsmen and began to plan

A city on that hill to span

The whole of that vast hilltop round,

His plans he spoke to none aloud

Except his daughter Idril fair,                                                 1050

Who was still lost in anguish where

No happiness could reach her heart

For Celebrimbor’s holy art

Had not yet healed her wounded soul

And still she bore her sorrow’s toll.                                       1055

 

But sometime after that green gem

Had come and changed all things for them,

She and her father heard the news:

The white-walled shining city whose

Construction had been known to few                                     1060

Was full-wrought then, and Turgon knew

The time had come to leave Nevrast

To take his people to the last

Fair secret stronghold made for him

To stand against the fortunes grim                                          1065

That were to come but shortly thence,

Around them then was kept defense

Of watchful legions and of wards

More secret-strong than all the swords

Of Noldor lords who heretofore                                             1070

Did not in hiding trust or score

Of hidden legions, but in might

Of open swords and banners bright

All brandished right before the foe

The Dark Lord Morgoth, king of woe.                                   1075

But Turgon vanished from all ken

Of Elves, and Morgoth’s terror then

Was greater than it was before,

For long ago in Valinor

He had despised young Turgon’s eye                                     1080

Within which never could descry

He any mercy towards him there,

Just suspicion and baleful glare.

But Turgon dwelt his halls within

In that fair city, Gondolin                                                       1085

Of seven names and seven gates,

Within whose walls would all the fates

Of Elves and Men be wrought in time,

New-wrought it stood in all its prime.

 

Now on a time in Nargothrond                                               1090

It came to Finrod that the bond

Between his siblings and his friends

Had come to be in certain lens

In need of some renewal bright,

And he so sent forth to invite                                                  1095

His sister and his brothers fair,

And Orodreth, wise Angrod’s heir,

And his own bride and children young,

And to the east he sent among

The heirs of Fëanor the news                                                 1100

That to the west by Narog’s views

Of Taur-en-Faroth’s lofty heights

A feast was to be held on nights

When winter’s chill was in the air,

And down in caverns bright and fair                                      1105

The flames of fires burning red

Would glow upon the breaking bread.

Of those invited thither came

Wise Celebrimbor, of whose name

The rumor had reached far and wide                                      1110

And thither came too at his side

Curufin the wise and cunning,

Celegorm too; swiftly running

Beside them came a shaggy shape

Huan the hound with mouth agape.                                        1115

The other sons of Fëanor

Came not, for war on Aman’s shore

Still shadowed them: their darkest deed,

What was in Araman decreed:

The Noldor’s Doom was spoken then                                    1120

And thus they stayed within their ken

The better to protect themselves

From treachery and hatred fell

Of kin and kind who knew their faults.

Thus only three into the vaults                                               1125

Of Nargothrond were come at last,

That they might eat and break their fast

With Finrod and with Finrod’s kin,

Thus Narog’s halls they went within.

 

And thither came Galadriel                                                     1130

Immortal maiden who would dwell

Some time in Menegroth the hall

Of Melian and Thingol tall,

But now she came to Finrod’s throne,

His stony carven torch-lit home                                              1135

To share with him her joy and love

In his success and building of

Such wondrous dwellings underground.

Thus there had Celebrimbor found

Her of whom was spoken in song                                           1140

That Laurelin the golden-strong

And Telperion’s silver beam

Were mingled in her tresses’ gleam

Which all of gold and touched with pale

Faint silver marked a shining trail                                          1145

Cascading down her queenly back,

A wonder was she, and a lack

Of love did Celebrimbor feel

That he had no one, and his zeal

Could find no rest. But at the sight                                         1150

Of Artanis the fair and bright

His heart was moved to fierce desire

And spirit moved him with a fire

To seek her hand in love and life

To share with her, that she his wife                                        1155

Might come to be. But knew he not

That her own heart had tied its knot

With someone else, in Doriath

The forest fair where every path

Is twisted round the magic strong                                           1160

Of Melian, whose mighty song

Imbued the woods with mist and might

To keep the forest safe and bright.

For Artanis had met the son

Of wise and noble Galadhon                                                  1165

The nephew of the Sindar king,

And with her voice would loudly sing

His name in loving music fair:

Tall Celeborn, with silver hair

And stately presence under tree:                                             1170

The king’s own royal kinsman he.

 

But Celebrimbor knew this not

And dared to speak his secret thought

Aloud to her who moved his heart

And to her then he spoke his part                                           1175

And told her of his love for her

And spoke of things that for him were

Hidden deep his heart within,

Unknown to his own nearest kin.

Then moved was she, but not with love                                 1180

But rather pity like a dove

Rose fair and mild in her heart,

And so she spoke with all her art

Of voice and soothing words of skill

That she might change his heart or kill                                   1185

This love within him lest it cause

Him to be saddened. And with pause

She answered his confession brave

With rejection, but sought to stave

All enmity that might arise                                                     1190

Forth from his heart and in her eyes

He saw this truth, that she had love

Already in her heart, and of

Such declarations she was leery.

Celebrimbor’s heart grew weary,                                           1195

Yet thanked he for her kind words fair

And took his leave that in the air

Of heaven might he solace find,

For though her words had been quite kind

The true intent of them was plain,                                          1200

And still could only cause him pain.

But Celegorm and Curufin

Celebrimbor’s kith and kin

Looked upon the halls of Finrod

And thought of Himlad’s fastness flawed                              1205

And noted how its strength and grace

Far surpassed their own chill place.

 

Now many years the wheeling Sun

Kept track as on its path it spun,

And some two hundred years had past                                   1210

Since Finrod’s friendly gay repast

When into Eastern lands he went

To climb the trails and pathways bent

Through forests of Ossiriand

The neighbor of Beleriand                                                      1215

When on a sudden found he then

Something beyond immortal ken,

A wonder and a sight so fair:

A group that in the open air

Joyfully beside a fire                                                              1220

Sat and voiced their hearts desire

For freedom from the reign of Night

And some escape from dire plight,

All sung in tongue and language strange

Originating past the range                                                       1225

Of Ered Luin’s lofty height

Whence they had come in recent flight

From terrors of the Dark Lord’s host.

Towards their fire like a ghost

Crept Finrod watching lovingly                                              1230

As they to sleep went joyfully

And took a harp from where it lay

And then a song began to play

Of Valinor and Eldamar

Beyond all mortal ken afar                                                     1235

And these fair people wond’ring woke

And listened to the words he spoke

All woven in a litany

And to their eyes he seemed to be

Some God or holy being bright                                              1240

Who’d come to lead them into light.

 

Such was the first of meetings meet

Of Men and Noldor. Thence their feet

Took them over Beleriand

The wide and empty elven land.                                             1245

They were the hosts of Bëor’s folk

And deep within their hearts awoke

A love for Finrod and his kin,

Thus they towards the north wherein

Were dwellings of Finarfin’s sons                                          1250

Went trooping then, and there among

These lords they made their royal home

In Ladros and beside the throne

Of Aegnor and his brother grim:

Lord Angrod fist of iron, him                                                 1255

Who warded all the northern line.

Yet more Men dared to make the climb

O’er Ered Luin, next there came

Marach’s people with their long wains

Of cattle and of horses fair,                                                    1260

They settled Estolad and there

They made the camp, till north they wound

Their way to Hithlum and there found

Fingon waiting, their coming known:

Dor-lómin’s land to be their home                                         1265

Was his decree, then settled there

Those people of the flaxen hair.

And last there came the Haladin,

The doughty folk of Haleth’s kin

To Brethil did they come anon,                                              1270

And Thingol let them dwell upon

The hill of Amon Obel’s height,

And there they stopped and built their might.

 

Thus was the Siege of Angband made

More strong and Morgoth was afraid                                     1275

And made designs and secret plans

To vex and harry elven lands.

He took thought then and took his arts

And gathered then the smoke and parts

Of all the fires ‘neath the earth,                                              1280

And made that creature whose foul birth

Was herald of the Elven fall,

Fell Glaurung foul, the wyrm whose crawl

Would lead anon to Nargothrond,

Yet now was still a secret spawned                                        1285

In hatred foul in Angband’s hall,

And Morgoth waited for the pall

Of peace to lull his foes to cease

Their vigilance, and with the peace

To lure them into folly’s arms                                                1290

That he might render their alarms

To be slow and ineffective,

And their own watch would find defective.

His troops he bred in waiting fell

Until the time he’d unleash hell.                                             1295

 

Then on a winter’s night of cold

When all the elven watchers bold

Were drawing near their fires glow

All unaware of any woe

Which soon upon them was to come,                                     1300

Then sudden flaming rivers from

The smoking peaks of Angband’s fast

Came running molten through the grass

Of Ard-galen the green and fair

And burning smoke was in the air.                                         1305

Thus Dagor Bragollach began

When molten flaming rivers ran

To Dorthonion’s fir-clad height

Where was the home and elven might

Of Angrod and Aegnor the fair                                               1310

Who with the Men of Bëor there

Were taken unawares by fire

Cascading through the gloom like ire

Of Morgoth Baugron, darkling foe

Of Men and Elves, whose legions go                                     1315

Forth from his gates behind the flames

And Glaurung too, and some whose names

Are now forgotten. On they went

To battle joined, and blood they spent

Upon the smoking flaming plain,                                           1320

And Glaurung came with armored wain

Of soldiers unto Maglor’s Gap,

And there his body did he wrap

About the towers and the walls

Of Maglor’s fortress, and its halls                                          1325

He razed to naught and onward pressed

To Helevorn, that fortress best

Equipped to fight a dragon grim,

For Helevorn the dark and dim

Lay deep and cool beneath the sky,                                        1330

And naught might Glaurung dare to try.

And thus he turned to fire and flame

To raze the countryside and maim

All those he found there peacefully

All Dwelling still in harmony.                                                1335

 

By Himring’s height the fight was grim

And Aglon’s pass was forced by him

Who mighty in the Orcish host

Was held, fierce Boldog in whom most

Of Sauron’s violence and his spite                                         1340

Was bodied forth. And there the fight

In Himlad’s plain they could not win:

Fair Celegorm and Curufin

And Celebrimbor too who fought

Beside them and with blades there wrought                           1345

Great damage to the ranks of Orcs

And stacked before him many-a-corpse.

But worsted were they and then thence

They fled along the roadways whence

In happier times they rode afore                                             1350

In happier days and years of yore.

But now they rode their horses strong

Through roads and rivers and along

Doriath’s march, the guarded land,

And came to West Beleriand                                                  1355

Where found they in Sirion’s Vale

The tower of Finrod white and pale

Besieged by Sauron and his host,

And Orodreth was like a ghost

Held fast within the walls of stone,                                        1360

But these three and their host alone

Broke there the siege of Tirith’s Tower

And showed their might and elven power

And with Orodreth thence they fled

To Narog’s caverns where the dread                                      1365

Of Morgoth’s troops could find them not

For hidden from his reach and thought

Was Nargothrond still at that time.

And thus they came there in its prime

And went across the river’s ford                                            1370

And Finrod took they as their lord.

 

Thus was the fall of elven land,

The Ruin of Beleriand,

With fire and flame and sword of foe

Accomplished and with blackened woe                                 1375

Were all the Elves and Men possessed

And all their lands were sorely pressed.

No peace remained throughout the land

And in all places was the hand

Of Morgoth felt. Those kingdoms left                                   1380

And still of Orcs and worse bereft

After this rout were Gondolin

Where Turgon sat his halls within,

And Nargothrond the hidden hall

Where Finrod ruled in golden pall,                                         1385

And Hithlum grey where Fingon sate

And Dor-lómin where Húrin’s hate

Still dwelt within his stout young heart,

And these two held their northern part.

And still towards the shining West                                         1390

In Brithrombar and Eglarest

Dwelt Círdan in the Havens bright,

And Doriath whose verdant light

Remained unstained, and Brethil’s wood

Was held by Haleth’s folk who stood                                    1395

And from Doriath got succor,

And Himring’s hill where still there were

Maedros and Maglor, brothers grim,

And to the south there still dwelt him

Amros the hunter to whose side                                             1400

Came Caranthir, and then did hide

These two in wooded southern lands,

Thus was the world in Elven hands

And hands of Men divided there

And Morgoth ruled most everywhere.                                    1405

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I included Boldog as the leader of the armies attacking Aglon, since I wanted to include one, and I figured he was a good candidate, and I'm fond of him, and he isn't included in many fan-works. In the Unfinished Tales, in the tale of the Elessar, one of the versions has Celebrimbor say that he loved Galadriel, even though she 'turned to Celeborn of the trees,' which is the source for this being included in this chapter. Everything else is essentially a verse-form of the canon of the Silmarillion.


End file.
